My Homecoming was a few weeks back. Despite losing our game to UVA, alum and students alike came out to celebrate. Like many of my fellow alum I decided to join in on the festivities with my group of friends. We decided on the infamous R.J. Bentley’s, one of three bars students can go to drink away the pain of failing that class for the semester or the bad break-up that happened the night before. So I did like any normal 20-something year- old would, I drank beer, danced, and flirted with not-so-cute guys from across the room. However, by the end of the night bad dancing (not mine) and foolish fights were no longer amusing to me and I wanted to leave.

I stood against the wall across from my friend, where we exchanged this-scene-blows glances as the night and drunken alumni passed us by. While staring into space hoping for something worthwhile to happen, a guy approaches me. I avoid eye contact in order to prevent any type of communication from ensuing. Unfortunately I was unsuccessful. He slowly moved closer to me and we exchanged hellos by tapping the bottom of our beer bottles. I was hoping that this would not only be the start but also the end of our interaction. Hope had failed me. He proceeded to tell me I was cool…slightly. I’m thinking wow this is going to be the worthwhile thing I was wishing for. We all know what they say about wishing…take caution. He continued on by telling me that I was a white girl with a black girl’s butt (Thanks!! At least I have a fatty right). I naturally started to laugh but it was clear that I was the only one who found amusement in what he was saying to me. He told me that I didn’t get it. What exactly “it” was I wondered briefly. I continued to laugh and he then called me a sell out. Instead of cursing him out and responding with one of those trite “you-don’t-even-know-me” responses I simply said: “That’s why you’re here at this bar and I’m the sell out.” Don’t you just love when the pot calls the kettle black or in my case white. He didn’t have a response for that but did mention before leaving that he didn’t want me. Thankfully, he wasn’t my soul mate so I think I’m good.

This incident made me think about my last four years in college and all my experiences during that time. It made me think of who I was as a person. I didn’t feel there was a need to explain to him why I was at the “white” bars because he didn’t know me. I also didn’t feel the need to preach how I was natural and I wear a fro most days or express to him that Nas is my favorite rapper and I have Mary J. Blige on heavy rotation on my Ipod. Nor did I feel the need to mention that when I’m ready I can chat some serious bad chat in patois (Jamaican dialect) because I’m a Jamaican-American. Proving my “blackness” to this stranger was far from necessary. But still it made me think.

I chose to go the University of Maryland because I craved diversity. I wasn’t built to be around just one group of people. It was important for me to maintain a sense of reality because most of my school and social environment prior to college were populated by Blacks and Latinos. The only white people I saw were the ones out in the street or my teachers. Before the age of nine, my childhood environment was more diverse. I was an army brat…enough said. The move to Queens at the age of eight changed all that. It wasn’t until I went to UMD that I was friends with people other than Blacks and Latinos. My decision to embrace diversity was one that I don’t regret even if meant that I would have to deal with being stereotyped. I hate stereotypes but they exist for a reason. A lot of Black people do like fried chicken and a lot of white people say awesome way too much but there is nothing fun about being placed in a box. It’s just like when they ask you on applications to check what box you are. I’m Jamaican American does that mean I check the “other” box because Black American doesn’t seem perfectly accurate. The “other” box is my favorite because it’s so vague. I could be anything or anyone. But I digress. I decided not to be upset or affected by the stranger’s blatant ignorance because my energy could be put to more constructive things (i.e. writing this piece). I realized that it is his problem if he doesn’t like that I am capable of wearing many hats. Too bad if he can’t deal with the fact that I like options and limiting myself is a foreign concept to me. Like most people I am a product of my environment or in my case environments. I guess maybe in his eyes I am an Oreo but I prefer Other.